


A scar

by SerpenLupus



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M, Mention of Death, Warcraft Troll, mention of wound and scar, or maybe an i want it to happen, this is basically a what if, warcraft human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 11:13:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11645400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerpenLupus/pseuds/SerpenLupus
Summary: A very short Tyrajin thing. Really, it’s just a fragment of an idea I had about the possible coming back of Vol’jin (it’s more a “what I want to happen” rather than “I think will happen” anyways, enjoy)Explanations after the text. Unbeta, unedited.





	A scar

##  **A scar.**

It seemed that luck was still on their side; had the troll grabbed his hand a second later and he would have plummeted down the camouflaged abyss. Or maybe it hadn’t been just luck; maybe the other’s interest in keeping him alive was genuine.

 -Thank you – he said, starting to climb up the wall. When his taller companion offered him the right hand too, Tyrathan glanced momentarily at his face, still covered by that strange wooden mask. He couldn’t see his eyes well behind the holes, and was still unsure of his real intentions… but if the Troll had  wanted him dead, he had had plenty of opportunities.

After a second, the hunter decided to accept his aid, placing his ungloved hand on the offered one, and as the other finished lifting him up, Tyrathan noticed a strange bulge in his thumb, like, a scar… just where the finger connected to the rest of the hand.

Suddenly everything froze for the man, and although his companion had taken him out of the hole and his feet where once again on safe ground, his eyes were glued to the scar circling the Troll’s thumb, and his mind was far away in place and time. He remembered when he had been recovering in a pandaren Monastery, when he had played Jihui with another foreigner in Pandaria. He remembered holding the hand of the Troll to stop him from doing a bad move in the game, and feeling that exact scar, in the exact same place, in doing so. He remembered his amber eyes in that moment, full of a fury that had him believing for a second that he could actually leap out of the bed to attack him.

Tyrathan Khort raised his gaze to finally see those same eyes behind the mask, carefully observing him.

How? How had he been so blind?  How had he not realized… it was him? The wild fire red hair, his height, the way he moved, the scar of his ear… suddenly he could see all the pieces together, and his chest tightened, somehow making it harder to breath.

Why hadn’t he realized sooner? It was true that the Troll had covered his face, his neck, he had not spoken in the days, weeks they had been mutually helping each other, he did not carry any of the weapons or the ornaments the human had come to relate to him, yet… it all felt like excuses.

But he was supposed to be dead! Tyrathan had been in his funeral, had seen his pyre… it was not possible for him to be standing there.

What if… it was just his mind playing tricks at him? Had his grief clouded reality?

His hold on the other’s hand grew tighter at the mere thought, but the eyes behind the mask did not change, if anything, they reflected a softness that the man had only seen once before, when he had been recovering from the spear wound.

The Troll knew Tyrathan had recognized him, and yet he remained there; still, silent.

For long seconds, the man could feel his throat constricted, unable to make a sound, to voice all his questions, his demands, but above all, to finally cry out that name that he had not dared to say in all these past months.

_Vol’jin, Vol’jin, Vol’jin…_

However, before he could finally speak, the Troll freed one of his hands from the hunter’s grasp and held a finger in front of his mask, where the mouth should be.

_A secret._

Tyrathan’s expression reflected confusion once again, but this time he found his voice.

-Why? What is…? How?

This time, the finger was firmly pressed against the hunter’s lips, and the Troll slowly shook his head.

-Vol’jin be no more – the voice, rough, almost unused, sounded exactly as Tyrathan remembered – only the Shadowhunter now.

 —-

Sooo, the idea was, what if when Vol’jin cut off his thumbr in “[The judgement”](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fworldofwarcraft.com%2Fen-us%2Fstory%2Fshort-story%2Fleader-story%2Fvoljin&t=MTFhMTJjNDRhNWViMTY3MzA1NTljNGUyMTVhM2M3NTVkZmI2YzNkYyxWTXk3cHhJSg%3D%3D&b=t%3Az9nlGtEoahUP7ksc2lERJw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fdoodlingadventures.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F153054735385%2Fa-scar&m=1), it actually left a mark or scar of some sort, and when Tyrathan grabbed his hand that time in Shadows of the horde, since he is so observant, he noticed it. 

I like to think that we won’t be the ones ressurecting Vol’jin, rather that we will help a misterious Shadowhunter that turns out to be him, and he will try to hide his real identity but yeah, Gay love sees trought all the disguises 8D ~~hahah don’t kill me  
~~

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!


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